Day 3

It’s Friday but I’m not relieved. It’s day #3 of him being home from the hospital and today I started the schedule we decided on just yesterday. He wants 3 meals a day, one at 7:00 a.m., one at 12 noon and one at 7:00 p.m.. I checked on him and brought him breakfast today at 7 a.m. but all he wanted was his frozen milk with a straw. He  kept asking me to put something else in his hand. A microphone or something. I couldn’t understand what he wanted and he just got frustrated then told me to get out. He has himself all turned around wrong in his bed and he’s in a position where I cannot help him sit up without someone else helping me. The hospital gave me a referral for professional home care and a lady came yesterday from that agency to see what type of job I am needing them for but she was unable to assist me. The agency is looking again for someone that can come help me right away and who will be able to help me everyday at 7 a.m. starting tomorrow until he no longer needs the help.

Every time I approach his bedroom door, I am almost too scared  to open it. Knowing that I may find him dead on the other side. I don’t understand how or why a person would want to hold on so desperately to his independance when they’re in their last stage of life like he is. He will not listen to anyone. So I’m to where I just listen to what he has to say. If he asks me a question, I answer. If I feel he is doing something that will cause him to fall back into the shithole (literally) he lived in prior to the hospital fiasco, I won’t allow it no matter how much he yells or how mad he gets. I have put my self on the line for him to still get what he wishes at this stage of  his life, but I’m not willing to pay the price for his neglegence and stubbornness  just so he can demonstrate his Amendment rights on his death bed.